[Gunnwesley] Fic: Kungai Part One 10/11 (Wesley/Gunn, NC17)

[helenraven]

Title: Kungai Part One 10/11

Author: Helen Raven

Email: helenraven at talk21.com

Pairing: Wesley/Gunn

Summary: The full history of the relationship between
Gunn and Wesley in the Birthdayverse. A novel in six
parts.

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit, not even a blip
on the litigation radar.

The Story's Home Page: http://www.kelper.co.uk/kungai


-----------------------

When they were sitting down, waiting for the rice to
cook, Gunn asked Wesley what else he missed from
England, apart from curries that were worth telling
people about.

Slowly: "Well, I miss London. I miss city walking.
Having walking as a real option. And as part of that I
miss public gardens. Knowing you're never more than
five minutes away from somewhere you can sit and be
quiet without having to buy a coffee. And I miss the
feeling that every square inch around me has been used
by humans. Over and over again. That it's been
noticed, recorded, and changed."

"The history thing, right?"

Wesley frowned. "I supposed it sounds as if I'm saying
I don't like L.A. because it's so new - and that's not
true, I do like L.A. and the newness is a large part
of what I like about L.A., it's refreshing. It's
more... being used to a country that's so small you
really can work over every inch. And a country that
feels as if it was made for humans, as if it likes
having people in it." He shook his head. "I don't get
that feeling here. Sometimes the opposite. " A shrug.
"It's what you're used to. You'd probably find England
claustrophobic. Worn out. But it unnerved me in the
first few months. There was too much obvious
'landscape' around Sunnydale. Lying out there,
muttering to itself. L.A.'s much better. It's almost
domesticated."

After some seconds, Gunn said, "Is that what you
always say when people ask how you like California?"

"I tell them I like the weather and the ocean. The
feeling that everyone's starting again. Making it up
as they go along. It sounds that strange, does it, my
reaction to the landscape?"

"The muttering, English. That's gotta throw people.
You really think it's alive? Is this a demon thing?
Something they teach you?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was alive. But for
now... let's say it's just a way of speaking." A
smile." If it will stop you worrying about me and the
muttering."

"I wasn't worrying, I just - No one talks like that.
It's either, 'Hey, nice view,' or, 'Jeez, it's worse
than Barstow.' When you look at things that
differently... Do have to check sometimes what you
mean and what you don't mean. But you like the ocean?
That doesn't mutter?"

"I love the Coast Highway. There was about a month,
when I'd got confident enough about driving again,
when I didn't have to think twice about leaving Angel
for the afternoon because I knew he'd be able to call
me if something happened. That was the closest I've
ever come to getting a tan."

"I can call you if something happens. You can leave
him with me for as long as you like. Why don't you go
out tomorrow?"

Wesley's immediate reaction was a flicker of dismay,
followed by an almost-convincing combination of
surprise, gratitude and regret. "It wouldn't be the
same now, without you. I wouldn't see the ocean, or
enjoy the sun. I'd just be working out how quickly I
could get back to you."

On some level  Gunn did believe what Wesley was
saying, but there was something else, something Wesley
wasn't saying. Did Wesley not trust him to look after
Angel? What did Wesley think he'd do wrong? Or was it
the effect the change would have on Angel? Gunn opened
his mouth to ask Wesley directly, then decided to let
it go; maybe Wesley just wasn't in the mood to explain
to Gunn how little he still understood about Angel.
"Well, the offer's always there."

At Gunn's first taste of each of the three curry
dishes, Wesley asked, "What do you think?", each time
in the same tone, like he was talking to another
expert, wanting to test his own ideas about what had
gone wrong.

"I think you'll be cooking this every Friday, until
you beg me to give you a night off and get us
something to go. C'mon, you know it's ten times better
than anything I could have had. I haven't even been to
that place in Santa Monica."

"No, I'll do something else next time."

"One other thing. You gotta keep the eggplant and the
cabbage or I'll start thinking I imagined them."

"Imaginary curries." Wesley nodded. "That's a good
sign. Show me proof of three dreams and I'll get you
registered as an honorary Englishman."

Gunn laughed. "Yeah? What does that get me?"

"Oh." A brief pause. "The ability to identify another
Englishman's class background in under a minute. A
sensitivity to embarrassment so acute it could
actually kill you. Nothing that would be useful to
you, especially not here in L.A. What about being an
honorary Angeleno? How far do I have to go?"

There Gunn was an expert, and he played it very, very
tough, not budging even through all the evidence
Wesley wanted him to hear. Wesley making steady
progress? No way. Gunn did wonder, after one of their
noisier exchanges, what it was like for Angel, sitting
alone in his room, listening to a besotted couple
teasing and flirting for hours on end. How many times
a day did he have to tell himself that he was glad to
hear it, glad of every sign that Wesley was happy?

When they'd finished doing the dishes, Gunn opened
beers - their first from the pack he had brought - and
they moved to the couch. Wesley asked about Gunn's
schedule for the weekend, whether they'd be able to
spend either day together.

"Yeah, that's a good question. There might not be any
schedule. I thought I wouldn't have to tell you until
at least next week, didn't want to worry you, but I
haven't told my crew yet where I've been spending my
nights. When they've asked I've just told them it's
none of their business. But one of them tailed me here
tonight - or he tried, I shook him after a couple of
miles - so if he brings in some others and gets his
act together tomorrow night, then I'm looking at a
showdown in the next couple of days." A brisk shake of
the head. "Don't worry, I'll take them back to base.
You won't have them waitin' on the doorstep or
anythin'."

"Charles?" Sharp alarm. "What sort of showdown?"

Matter-of-fact, on a sigh: "They won't be happy when I
tell them about you. None of them. Even the ones
who've fought with you. Vince, he'll be the one who'll
say it's bad enough I'm a fag, how can they trust me
after that, but that I won't even choose my own kind,
I must always've been lookin' for some fancy white boy
to take me off the streets. Doesn't matter if he
really thinks that, if anyone there really thinks
that. They all know that's what it looks like, and
Vince'll talk it up like it's the betrayal of the
century. They'll never let it go."

"Oh, God! I didn't - I hadn't - Charles!" Wesley
swallowed, took several gasping breaths, and when he
spoke again, there was a tremor in his voice. "What
are you going to do?"

Gunn shrugged and smiled, and squeezed Wesley's
shoulder hard, intending uncomplicated reassurance.
"I'll step down straight away, not give Vince a chance
to get started. Practically got my bags packed
already. I'm not the right person to lead them any
more. I don't care enough, not now. It's not a big
deal. Wes, don't look like that." Wesley looked like
he might pass out, or throw up. "It's my choice. It
wasn't even difficult. Wes, don't."

Wesley had closed his eyes, turned away slightly,
slumped, with the heel of his hand pressed to his
clammy forehead. Gunn stroked his back. "Wes. English.
Come on. It isn't a big deal. I know I should've told
you earlier, but I thought I'd be able to wait till
next week. I'm doing what I want. Decided on it days
ago." Wesley's reaction was just guilt, wasn't it? The
shock of imagining what the crew would say about them.
Not some complicated English thing from Wesley's past?

Wesley suddenly lurched to his feet, stood hunched
over, swaying slightly. Gunn got off the couch, about
to urge him to sit down, lie down, but Wesley gave a
ragged sigh, let his hand fall to his side, then took
a step forward, past the coffee table, his gaze fixed
on the door of Angel's room. Gunn followed him for
three or four steps, then stopped as he saw that
Wesley was recovering his steadiness, his height; and
as he started to wonder exactly what Wesley was doing,
and why.

Wesley was going to tell Angel something. Or maybe ask
Angel something. Was this about Wesley and Angel,
about something between them? Or was it about whatever
Wesley had - or hadn't - told Angel about Gunn, about
himself and Gunn? But Wesley didn't open the door and
go in to Angel. Instead, Gunn heard the sound of the
key turning in the lock, and then Wesley crossed the
living-room, went into his own bedroom and closed the
door. The key was gone from the lock of Angel's door,
so Wesley must be hiding it; Wesley was protecting
Angel, locking him safely away from Gunn. Gunn moved
forward, took up position a few feet from Angel's
door, and waited for Wesley to come out of his room.

Wesley walked towards Gunn, still very pale, but no
longer dazed and shaken. Instead, his gaze was too
clear: bleak, determined, resigned.

"So tell me." Gunn's tone was a match for Wesley's
expression. "What the two of you've been doing."

"Nothing. Not that. It's..." A sigh. "Angel is a
vampire." Wesley's voice was quiet, as clear and bleak
as his face.

Gunn didn't feel surprise, not a glimmer, or feel
annoyed with himself for missing all of the clues. You
see a supremely gifted  fighter who can move like a
cat, you don't immediately think vampire. Or when
you're told that he doesn't really eat. Or are given
hints that he's older than he looks. Or when you hear
him snarling like a hungry animal. You don't think it,
not when the vampire is in the care of the person you
most admire.

He'd been jealous of a vampire. He'd got angry with a
vampire, when he was alone with it in the middle of
the night. He'd joked with a vampire about English
food.

Gunn hardly knew what to think, or what to feel, or
where to start with his questions.

"What you've told me about him. About you. Was any of
that true?"

Wesley shook his head. "It's all true. I've never lied
to you, Charles. I wouldn't lie to you. But I've been
waking up every day thinking, 'Today. I'll work out
today how to tell Charles everything.' How to tell you
properly."

"That you're messing with somethin' that's gonna get
you killed? And not just you, most likely. He's got
you thinkin' you've tamed him? 'cos a couple of times
he could've killed you and he didn't. Man, you better
change your card. 'Expert on demons. But understands
fuck all about vampires.' You can't ever be anything
to him except a meal."

"No, of course I haven't tamed him. But I didn't need
to. He's been different from other vampires for a long
time. You've seen for yourself that he's different.
He's never going to hurt anyone else. He helps people
now. We help people."

"What I've seen is he's pretty-much crazy. That your
'different'? The brain damage. You sayin' that's what
it takes to 'tame' a vampire?"

"No, it's not the brain damage. It's not because of
something missing, it's because of something special
he's been given. It's because he has a soul, when
other vampires don't. He was given back his soul about
a hundred years ago, and he became a person again as
well as a demon. So he has a conscience and remorse,
and he's able to have feelings for people other than
just hunger. With the soul... he doesn't feed from
people. He tries to atone. He's completely different."

"Yeah, right. You ever think to ask him what he was
like without it? Or you just take his word for
everything? 'Oh, no, Wes, I'm different, I've got a
soul. You don't have to worry about me for a second.'
"

"I didn't ask him, and he would never tell me not to
worry about him. He knows I've read about him, all of
the important accounts of what he did when he had no
soul. He was know as Angelus then. He was one of the
worst. And no one is more horrified than Angel by the
knowledge of what Angelus did. I've seen him desperate
to atone."

"And that's what you live with?" Gunn raised his hand,
pointed over his shoulder at Angel's door, but without
taking his eyes from Wesley's. "That's what you had a
crush on. That's what you think is beautiful. You know
exactly what he's done and here you are protecting
him? That's sick, man. You gotta know it's sick."

"What I know is that he's Angel now. He is not
Angelus. I might not have believed either, just from
what I'd read, but when I saw how he behaves, what he
does as Angel, then I believed. Charles, the first
time you ever saw him he was fighting vampires.
Helping people. That's his whole purpose now. And
helping him... It's the most important thing I've ever
done."

Meaning: I'll never choose you over him, even though
you'd choose me over your crew. But Gunn had known
that already, when he'd thought Angel was nothing
worse than crazy.

"And the accident? Whatever's happening to his mind.
Or is that how the soul thing works?"

"No, he got his soul back a hundred years ago. I think
he's always been withdrawn. Avoided people. But he
could more than take care of himself. Getting the
visions last November... I think it was an accident.
And the effect they're having on him, that's probably
an accident too."

Impatient: "What visions?"

"The tip-offs. They're not ordinary tip-offs, not from
contacts here in L.A. They're visions that he gets of
people in danger from demons, people we have to help.
They're sent by..." A shrug. " 'The Powers That Be.'
That's how Angel always puts it. He thinks they've had
plans for him, maybe for some time. I don't know. I
just know that we do help. All those customers at the
thrift shop. The family in Fairfax. Angel saw what
would happen, as if he was there."

"You're saying he's some kind of mystic now? He's got
his soul and he's atoned and he's become a vampire
saint. Floating above everything in a world of his
own?"

"That would be the Hollywood version. What I've
seen..." Wesley shook his head. "I can't find out
exactly what's happening to him, but when a vision
hits him... They slam into him, like a wrecking ball.
Like a bolt of lightning. They take over his nervous
system, won't let go until everything's over. I think
each one burns something out, leaves him more
fractured. I don't know where it will end. Probably
with him lost to everything except the visions."

"Or killing him?" Trying to sound as sombre as Wesley,
when he'd always think that a vampire dying was the
best end to a good day.

"I don't know. I don't know if brain damage can kill a
vampire. I don't know why the demon in him can't
repair that type of damage when it can heal almost
anything else. I've read everything I can find, but I
can't see any patterns in how the visions affect
people. Except for the humans, because they do die,
sometimes within months. He might stabilise, the demon
might be doing more than I realise. It's only been six
or seven months. I think for some people it did get
easier."

A long, long pause. "And if he doesn't? Stabilise?" Or
die. "If he gets worse than he was that night he hit
you. How you gonna cope when you daren't even go near
him? When he never knows who you are?"

"I don't know yet, but I know that I will cope. What
else would I do? When there are people we have to
help."

Quietly: "Alone." Gunn knew what it was to face
danger, to be willing to die for something important.
But he always faced the danger with his crew; they
gave each other courage, and recognition, and comfort,
they made the fight a pleasure as well as a duty.
Wesley was alone. Every scrap of courage, he had to
summon for himself. He didn't expect recognition or
look for comfort; you could tell that from his
helpless astonishment at any sign that someone had
noticed, that someone cared. And yes he would cope
alone, with Angel and with fight after fight, until
one or the other killed him.

"Yes." With a small nod, and an expression of such
flat resignation - a complete acceptance of the
absence of hope. Gunn stepped forward and put his arms
around Wesley, wanting to show Wesley that there was
hope, that everything would be different now they were
together.

Wesley gave a brief, wavering exhalation, touched his
hand lightly to Gunn's back for a moment, then let it
drop. "Charles. Please. Please don't bring your crew
after him. I swear, if I think he could harm anyone
again, I'll kill him myself. Please. You can forget
you ever met us."

Gunn stepped back, found Wesley suddenly avoiding his
eyes. Was Wesley ashamed of asking, of pleading for
his vampire? Or did he think he knew too well how Gunn
would answer. "You think I'm gonna leave you?"

Now Wesley looked at him, with that terrible hopeless
certainty. "You said alone. I know you can't stay. Of
course you can't. Not now. I'm sorry. I should have -
I should never have -"

Gunn drew him close again. "You should've had another
couple of weeks. To work out how to tell me in your
own time. I'll go into the base first thing tomorrow
and tell them straight off. No point in waiting now. I
don't want you to be alone for a second longer than
you have to. C'n I stay here for a few days? Haven't
had a chance yet to start lookin' for somewhere to
live."

"Charles!" Wesley slumped against him, clutched at
him, breathing harshly, like he was close to tears.
Gunn held Wesley steady, soothed him with
near-wordless murmurs. Eventually Wesley said, almost
in a whisper, "Why? He is a vampire. Why would you..."

"The same reason you told me about him the moment you
found out what was happening with my crew. Even though
you thought I'd leave you. Because we love each other.
If something's important to you, if you believe in it,
then I do too. I know I'll get to see for myself that
Angel really is different. But for now it's enough
that he's your vampire."

A pained groan. "You can't give up your friends
because of me. You mustn't. I - I - How can I be worth
it?"

"I'm not giving anything up. I wouldn't be with the
crew forever, anyway. And this way I get to do
somethin' just as important, and I get to do it with
you. You can't honestly think I'd want things any
other way. As for givin' things up, what about you,
with Angel and the visions? When d'you ever ask
yourself if he's worth it?"

"It's not..." Wesley raised his head, seeming
genuinely puzzled, like he was taking what Gunn had
said as real questions, not just a way of arguing. "I
know I didn't give up anything. What else would I do?"

Well, he could have a life of his own. But maybe
Wesley wouldn't know what to do with one of those.
Gunn did find it hard to imagine Wesley without Angel,
doing things just because he wanted to. "Wesley? When
was the last time you asked for something for
yourself? What would you ask for?"

"Well, I'd ask you to stay for more than a few days."
A small, uncertain smile. "But of course you'd want
somewhere of your own. Angel's easier to live with
than you'd think, but I don't know if you could say
that about me."

However long it had been since Wesley had last asked
for something, it sounded like he'd been turned down.
And probably the five times before that, too. Gunn
shook his head, smiling. "Can see we're gonna have to
work out a system. Make sure we won't both try to be
tactful at the same time. I don't want a place on my
own, not when I want to spend every night with you. I
just said because you'd know better than me if Angel
could cope with having me living here." A shrug. "It
is gonna seem crowded sometimes."

"I know. But I think Angel wants to cope with the two
of us. He keeps asking why you're not here, when
you're coming back. And he can't understand why I let
you leave." Softly, almost a whisper: "So you will
stay?"

"Of course I'll stay."


-----------------------

Rather read Kungai in HTML? See http://www.kelper.co.uk/kungai